Elizabeth sat up in bed, breath shallow and quick, one hand clutched to her chest. The dream still clung to her skin — Nicholas's mouth on hers, the fevered forest air, and the haunting glow of unseen eyes. Her body remembered the kiss, the weight of his gaze, the heat that had seared through her like lightning. But it was more than desire… it was recognition. Destiny in disguise. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and planted her feet on the cool floor. Morning had broken gently outside the window — soft light, birdsong in the distance — but inside her, everything felt off-kilter. Like the world had tilted overnight and she was now walking through someone else's fate. She pressed her hands to her temples, grounding herself. It was just a dream, she told herself. Just a dream. But she knew better. The air around her still felt charged, laced with the remnants of something old and watching. And deep inside her, her magic was restless. It hummed beneath her skin like a secret trying to speak.
A knock sounded at her door — a soft, familiar rhythm. "Lizzie?" Lilith's voice came through, muffled. "You awake?" Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Yeah. Come in." Lilith peeked inside with a mug in each hand, her wild morning curls tied up in a lopsided bun. "Figured you could use this." She handed Elizabeth a steaming mug and sank onto the bed beside her. For a moment, they sat in silence, sipping, the comfort of quiet things holding them together. Then Lilith looked sideways at her. "You had another dream, didn't you?" Elizabeth nodded, her fingers wrapped tight around the ceramic. "It wasn't like the others. It was… vivid. Like I was there. And he—Nicholas—he was different. Wilder. And then… there were shadows. Eyes in the woods." Lilith's face grew serious. "Dreams like that aren't just dreams, babe. Not anymore. Your power is deepening. Your connection to Nicholas — and to everything out there — is becoming real. The dream realm is part of the Veil. You're touching it now." Elizabeth's heart skipped. "But I didn't mean to—" "You don't have to. Magic doesn't wait for permission." She leaned her head against Lilith's shoulder, exhaling slowly. "What does it mean?" Lilith was quiet a moment, then whispered, "It means you're waking up to who you are. And everything that comes with that." Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to center herself in the warmth of the coffee, in the steady beat of her cousin's presence beside her. But she could still feel him — Nicholas — like a thread tied to her ribs. And deeper still, something else had stirred in the dark, something that had seen her. And now that it had… …it wouldn't forget.
Elizabeth stepped out into the morning with the collar of her coat turned up against the breeze, her bag slung over one shoulder, and the spell-lined charm Lilith had tucked into her pocket earlier now warm against her palm. A protective rune etched into a tiny coin, strung on thread. It thrummed faintly, like a heartbeat she hadn't known she needed. The streets bustled in their usual rhythm — delivery vans, commuters, students clutching coffee cups and hopes for a short day. But to Elizabeth, it all felt quieter somehow. Or maybe she was just more aware of the space between things. The way shadows curved. The way a crow stared just a little too long from the rooftop across the street. She shook it off and focused on the sidewalk ahead. The bookshop came into view like a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Familiar, quaint, grounded. The painted sign swung gently in the breeze: Moon & Tide Books. Her safe haven — or it had been. Now it was just the only place she could pretend to be normal for a few hours.
Inside, the smell of old paper and sandalwood wrapped around her. She turned on the lights, unlocked the register, and started the morning routine: restocking shelves, tidying the counter, counting the till. The motions soothed her. But still… Nicholas lingered in her mind. Not just the dream, but him. His presence, his worry, the fierce way he'd watched her like she was something worth protecting — or maybe something he feared losing. She paused, resting her hand on a stack of antique poetry volumes, eyes unfocused. A customer entered, the bell chiming softly above the door, snapping her out of her haze. "Good morning," she said automatically, her voice steady. It was a quiet older woman, one of the regulars, and the next hour passed easily with a few simple transactions and shelving a box of used books. Normalcy. Routine. Peace. But even peace came with ripples. As the late morning light poured through the windows, casting gold across the floorboards, Elizabeth felt a subtle shift. A familiar presence. That hum beneath her skin again. She turned toward the front door — expecting, fearing, hoping — to see Nicholas. But it wasn't him.
It was Adrian.
He stood in the doorway with his usual charming grin, dressed in all black, as if the city had personally tailored his look. His eyes caught hers — amused, curious, and something else beneath. Something keener. "Miss Hudson," he said, stepping in. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything… magical." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "It's just a bookshop, Adrian." He stepped closer, leaning casually on the front counter. "Maybe. Or maybe it's more." She gave him a dry smile. "Unless you're here for that copy of Wuthering Heights you pretended to want last time, I have shelves to restock." Adrian laughed, and it was smooth, but there was a flicker in his gaze — like he saw more than he let on. He lingered a second longer, then picked up a book from the counter and flipped through it absently. "I just like stopping by," he said. "You never know when something interesting might happen." Elizabeth exhaled slowly, the charm in her pocket heating against her hand again. Protective magic, humming low like it sensed a shift. She didn't know what Adrian was — not yet. But something in him watched her like a predator sizing up the wind. Adrian didn't leave. Instead, he circled the shop like a lazy cat, fingers brushing over spines, eyes flicking toward Elizabeth more often than the books. There was something off in the rhythm of his movements today — too smooth, too deliberate. Elizabeth kept her expression neutral as she tidied a shelf that didn't need it. "You seem distracted," he said lightly. "I have a lot on my mind." "Mm." Adrian picked up a worn copy of The Inferno and let it fall open in his hands. "Dreams, perhaps? Forests and fire? Or maybe… kisses that feel like prophecy?"
Elizabeth froze for half a second — just enough. Adrian smiled without looking up. "Thought so." She stepped out from behind the shelf and met his gaze. "Why are you really here?" He shut the book with a quiet thump and tilted his head. "Curiosity. You're changing, Elizabeth. Anyone with eyes can see it. Your magic is waking up. That's not a small thing — it ripples. It calls." Her spine stiffened. "You've been watching me." "Not just me," he said, voice low now, almost gentle. "There are others who feel it. Who feel you. The way power cracks the air when you walk into a room. You're becoming something very… interesting." Her fingers clenched around the edge of the bookshelf. "Is that what I am to you? Interesting?" Adrian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, you're so much more than that." Something dark slipped into his tone — a possessive note, subtle but sharp enough to set her magic flickering in her chest like a flare. And then, the door opened. The bell chimed — harsh, sudden, and Adrian flinched, just slightly. Nicholas stepped inside, sharp eyes locking instantly on Elizabeth… then on Adrian. The air snapped like a taut wire.
"Nicholas," Elizabeth said, her voice steadier than she felt. He moved to her side without hesitation, his presence grounding, fierce. "Everything alright?" Adrian's smile returned, slower now, almost lazy. "We were just talking." Nicholas didn't look away. "That so?" Adrian stepped back a half-inch — not out of fear, but because he wanted the moment to stretch. "You're always so intense, Nicholas. I wonder how long she'll find that charming." Elizabeth stepped slightly between them, eyes flicking from one to the other. "That's enough." Nicholas didn't blink. "He shouldn't be here." "I go where I'm welcome," Adrian said smoothly. "And some of us don't need invitations." It was a jab — Elizabeth caught it — and so did Nicholas. The vampire's jaw tightened. "You've made your point." Adrian glanced at Elizabeth one last time, that strange gleam still flickering beneath his charm. "Until next time, Elizabeth." And just like that, he slipped out the door, the bell ringing like an echo behind him. The silence that followed was thick. Nicholas turned to her. "You shouldn't be alone with him. Ever." "I wasn't alone." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "He's not what he pretends to be." "I know," she said quietly. "But I don't know what he is." Nicholas looked at her, and for a moment something ancient passed through his expression — protective, aching, and haunted. "I'll find out."
Nicholas stayed silent as Elizabeth locked the front door behind Adrian, flipping the sign to Closed. She turned back to him, heart still pounding, her magic flickering under her skin like candlelight trying to become wildfire. "Who is he?" she asked quietly. Nicholas's eyes followed the closed door a moment longer, as though he could still see through it, tracking Adrian's presence like scent on wind. Then he turned to her, his jaw tight. "I don't know exactly. Not yet." He stepped closer. "But I've felt something like him before. Something… wrong." Elizabeth folded her arms over her chest. "He knew things. About my dream. About my magic waking up. He wasn't just guessing." Nicholas nodded slowly. "Because he's tied to it. To you. Or maybe to something that wants through you." Her breath caught. "You think he's—what? A warlock? A demon?" Nicholas frowned. "He's wearing a mask, that much is certain. His presence shifts — there's glamour around him. Not human. Not fully. But not fae either." He hesitated. "He doesn't belong in this world without... intention. Purpose." Elizabeth stared at the floorboards, grounding herself. "And you think that purpose has something to do with me." Nicholas's voice softened. "You're not just a witch, Elizabeth. You're something rare. Powerful. Even now, when you're only beginning to open the door. Creatures like Adrian… they smell that. They come sniffing around like wolves at the edge of a fire." "I didn't invite him," she said. "I know." He stepped closer, his voice a quiet vow. "But I'll be damned if I let him hurt you."
Elizabeth looked up, and for a heartbeat, she saw not just the vampire with a tragic past — but the man behind the myth. The one who chose to stand by her side when others would run. The one whose shadows bent not just to darkness, but to devotion. She reached out, brushing her fingers against his wrist. "We'll figure this out." His eyes met hers — ice and fire held in glass. "Yes. We will." Then, softer: "You're not alone in this, Elizabeth. Not anymore." She nodded, trying to hold on to that. Because deep down, she could feel it too — Adrian wasn't just watching her. He was waiting. And whatever he truly was… He wasn't done yet. Nicholas moved without needing to speak — flipping the shop's bolt for extra security, drawing the curtains. He'd done this before. Not in her world, but in the one that bled just behind it. The one he'd been trying to keep from swallowing her whole. Elizabeth moved with him. Silently, instinctively. She led him to the back room of the shop — the little library-slash-storage nook where she kept older books, esoteric tomes that customers rarely asked for. The lighting was soft and the air smelled of dust and ink. Nicholas knelt beside the stack of worn crates without hesitation. "May I?" She nodded. "They're mostly untranslated. Some handwritten, some sealed with old bindings." He looked up at her with a flicker of admiration. "You're better prepared than most witches who've had years to train." Elizabeth gave a faint smile. "I think Lilith always suspected I'd need this."
Nicholas opened one of the crates with careful fingers, lifting a thick, leather-bound book that pulsed faintly in his hands. Not literal movement — but magic. Residual power. "This one," he said softly. "It's warded." Elizabeth stepped closer and crouched beside him. "Can you read it?" He ran his thumb along the spine. "Some of it. Old Latin, maybe mixed with proto-Drakari script. This might be older than either of us." She leaned closer too, shoulder brushing his. "Can you translate?" "I can try. But more importantly — look here." He opened the book, revealing a page inked in strange circular diagrams and jagged notations. At the center, a symbol burned softly into the parchment. Elizabeth leaned in, breath catching. "I've seen that before. In the dream." Nicholas's jaw tensed. "Then Adrian's not just haunting you. He's in it. A construct, maybe. A tether. Something or someone using the dream to anchor himself." Elizabeth whispered, "So it's not just me opening doors. He's already inside." Nicholas turned to her, and for a moment all the intensity bled into clarity. "Then we need to shut that door before he pulls you through."
They worked in tandem — flipping through pages, cross-referencing runes with spells from another text. Nicholas translated fragments aloud while Elizabeth marked glyphs and made sigils in the air, her magic dancing tentatively at her fingertips like smoke from a candle flame. It felt strange. And right. Two creatures of night — one just awakening, the other long steeped in it — united in quiet purpose. They lost track of time. Candles replaced the weak afternoon light. A protective circle was half-formed on the floor. The shop felt different now — not merely a sanctuary, but a place of reckoning. Elizabeth rubbed her eyes, sitting back on her heels. "He's tied to ancient magic, isn't he?" Nicholas nodded slowly. "Dark, twisting magic. The kind that doesn't just take power — it trades. Sacrifices." She swallowed hard. "What would he want from me?" Nicholas's gaze softened. "Everything." Silence fell. And yet… in that silence, something had grown. Not fear. Not despair. But resolve. The air changed. One moment it was warm with candlelight and the soft scratch of pages turning — the next, it was still, too still, like the moment before lightning cracks open the sky. Elizabeth's hand froze mid-sigil. Then the room pulsed. The books on the table rustled. A candle snuffed itself out. Nicholas was on his feet in a blink. "Elizabeth—" But she was no longer fully there. Her eyes were open, but her breath had caught. Her body remained kneeling, rigid — like time had paused only for her. Nicholas knelt instantly beside her, fingers brushing her wrist. Still warm. Still real. But her gaze was elsewhere. A shimmer of magic passed over her skin like frost. And then— She fell. Not physically, but inward — the sensation like being pulled underwater by a dream.
In the vision Elizabeth stood in a clearing of blackened trees. The sky above was violet, fractured like glass. There was no sun. No moon. Only a bleeding red glow on the horizon. She turned — and behind her, a figure stood cloaked in smoke. Adrian. Only it wasn't him, not fully. His face flickered, fractured — like a painting being peeled from reality. His smile was too wide. His eyes too still. "You opened the door," he said, voice echoing through the broken sky. "Or maybe... I never left." She backed away. Her magic sparked at her fingertips but died instantly in the air — useless here. "You've always been meant for more, Elizabeth," he continued, walking forward. "But you're still clinging to them. To him." His voice twisted with contempt. "The vampire won't save you. The witch won't protect you." She trembled — not in fear, but in fury. "You don't own me." He laughed, and the sky split open like a wound. Something massive and ancient stirred behind it — too big to be seen, too terrible to name. "You will."
Back in reality Elizabeth gasped — her body jolting back like she'd been slammed with cold water. Nicholas caught her instantly, arms around her. "I've got you. Breathe. Breathe, Elizabeth." She clutched his shirt, eyes wild and glassy. "He's in. He's inside my head." Nicholas's jaw clenched. "You were pulled into a vision?" She nodded, heart still racing. "It wasn't just a message. It was a warning. He's tethered to something... older. Something bigger. I think—" She swallowed hard. "I think he wants to use me to bring it through." The door burst open. "What the hell just happened?"
Lilith.
She looked around at the circle, the scattered books, and the faint crackle of magic still hanging in the air like static. Then her eyes landed on Elizabeth in Nicholas's arms, pale and shaking. Without missing a beat, she dropped her bag and came straight to her side. "I felt the pull. It hit like a storm cloud." Elizabeth reached out, and Lilith knelt, grasping her hand. "He's stronger than we thought," Elizabeth whispered. "Adrian isn't just a threat — he's a conduit." Lilith's eyes darkened. "Then we're not waiting anymore. We fight fire with fire." The apartment had quieted. Lilith had made tea — her go-to after magic surged or stormed. The scent of chamomile and vanilla lingered in the air, mingling with the faint tinge of burned wax from the earlier ritual. The windows were open just a crack, letting in the cool night breeze, and the city beyond moved like a distant dream. Elizabeth sat curled up on the couch, one of Nicholas's jackets draped around her shoulders. She hadn't said much after the vision. Her body had calmed, but her mind hadn't. Nicholas stood by the window, silhouetted in shadow, silent but vigilant — as if expecting Adrian to appear through the night itself. Lilith had retreated to her bedroom, giving them space with only a parting look that said, Talk. Process. Heal. Elizabeth finally broke the silence. "I didn't think it would feel so real. I've had strange dreams, warnings. But this… it was like he dragged me there." Nicholas turned, watching her. "He's trying to erode the barrier between your world and his. If he can reach into your mind, he's closer to crossing over." She nodded, fingers curling around her tea cup. "And there was something else. Behind him. Something old… wrong. I couldn't see it. Just… feel it. Like it wanted to be seen."
Nicholas walked over and sat beside her, close but careful. "You said he called you a key." She nodded again, slower this time. "A key. Or a lock. Either way, it's not just me he's after. It's what he can unleash." Nicholas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then we change the game. We make you unbreakable. We train, we protect your mind. We sharpen your power until he regrets ever thinking he could take it." His voice was low, fierce — not reckless, but certain. She looked at him for a long moment. "You sound like you've done this before." He didn't answer immediately. Then he said quietly, "I've seen what happens when monsters win. I won't let it happen again." That raw honesty in his voice made her throat tighten. She reached out, her hand brushing his. "I'm scared." He turned his hand over, fingers closing around hers. "Good. Fear means you're still human." Their hands remained joined in the quiet. The candlelight flickered. And for a moment, amidst the unraveling chaos and ancient warnings, there was something steady in the dark — the unspoken vow between them. Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes finally growing heavy. And Nicholas stayed with her. Watching the night. Waiting for the next move.